


Bitter Bones

by orphan_account



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Babies, Bad Decisions, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Crack and Angst, Found Family, Gen, Kid Fic, Not Canon Compliant, Platonic Relationships, Post-The Last Olympian (Percy Jackson), ah yes crangst, but pretty funny if u ask me, no romance in here only percabeth and their swords, not rly in character, technically???
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-30 04:44:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20808746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A slight retelling of HOO, with a single addition: A baby.





	Bitter Bones

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is the part where I warn you of any possible triggers. This time there are none, so go ham i guess. 
> 
> I want to thank my beta, Bim, and the discord groupchat who went crazy when I talked about this, pushing me to actually keep writing this little demon of a story.
> 
> UPDATE nearly a whole year later: I miss my gc, I literally nearly died (more than once) before I managed to rewrite the rest of this story, can we get an F in the chat for me? 
> 
> my writing has improved since this chapter, so i might go back and redo it if i ever get anything even resembling attention

Nico’s nightmares were already bad enough without him having to know that his sister was not coming back.

She really hated him that much, uh?

  
  
It didn’t even feel like it had only been two weeks since the last battle.

  
_  
(Blood. Monsters shouldn’t bleed, should they? So why was there blood on Nico’s sword? Oh god no-)_

  
  
She was right, when she decided to leave him. That was all for the best, because won’t you look at him now?

  
  
Still, there is a part of him asking why she can’t make it easier for him, why cant she come back and take care of him for once, and make things go back like they used to be. At this point, Nico doesn’t know what he misses more, her or the peaceful, normal life he had when they were together.

  
  
Its been (nearly? Kind of?) two years and he just can’t seem to get over it. The knowledge that he should’ve moved on already is there, is true, and yet he simply finds himself unable to do something that simple.

  
  
He doesn’t know why that is, but at least he knows that the weather isn’t the reason he’s feeling so cold. Walking down the streets feels inappropriate, like he shouldn’t be in public, out in the sun. Like he should curl up somewhere dark, hidden away from all the eyes and all the words, and never go out again.

  
  
To make what seems like an awfully long story short, he wants to be alone. He knows that Percy said he should go to the camp if he feels like he needs help again, but that isn’t even the case, so he shouldn’t even think about bothering his friends (?) back there.

  
  
He just tells himself that he’s far too tired to shadow travel back to camp tonight (not quite true, but he’s sleepy, which is close enough).

  
  
Yes, he might get his eyes ripped out if he sleeps on the street again, but he would deserve that, wouldn’t he?

  
  
The thing that snaps Nico out of it, whatever it was, is the noise in an alleyway. The loud, yet slightly muffled cries of something tiny, defenseless. Does anyone else hear it? It’s so loud, there’s no way he’s the only one hearing it.

  
  
The people are still passing, none of them looking even a bit bothered. No, then.

  
  
The fact that no one seems concerned should be a red flag, but really, if it’s a monster at least it will kill him. Therefore, Nico makes a horrible decision and sneaks into the small alley.

  
  
There’s… Nothing. Yet, there’s still something crying. Is it coming from inside the bins? Is that why the sound is a little muffled?

  
  
_Only one way to find out_, Nico thinks, unsheathing his sword for precaution, just in case whatever it is tries to eat him.

  
  
-

  
  
  
It’s not a monster.

  
  
Well, if it is, it’s not like any of the monsters Nico has seen before. He has seen plenty of them, in real life and in card game pictures, but nothing that looked this much like a baby. Or like a sausage. The two things are pretty similar, turns out (even if he’s still pretty sure only one of them is edible).

  
  
Should… Should he just put it back? It’s all naked and yeah, it’s not bleeding or covered in sewage but it’s _gross_. It’s writhing, still held out in his arms, moving in that weird way and bawling like it just saw death.

  
  
What is it going to do? What _can_ it do to him?

It’s a baby. It’s probably not a newborn, but it still can’t do anything. Nico shivers as he takes off his jacket – the original color has long faded, and it’s all poorly patched up if not just outright destroyed, so he hopes the baby doesn’t mind unfashionable things – and wraps it around the little thing.

  
  
It – her – cries don’t stop, even with her all wrapped up. Understandable, Nico isn’t that happy either, and that jacket is pretty uncomfortable. Probably even more for the baby than it was for him, because it’s a pretty warm day, even with the fading sunlight.

  
  
“I don’t like it either, but you have to look decent. C’mon, you little… weird dog.” He says, as softly as he can, and his words stop being English halfway through the sentence. He settles for simply cooing as she calms down.

  
  
And then, her cries stop and, while he is still on the ground, kneeling in an uncomfortable position with his sword thrown haphazardly on the ground, she opens her eyes.

  
  
Nico hasn’t eaten in a while, but even with an empty stomach he wants to puke, because what kind of joke is that?

  
  
Her eyes are golden.

  
  
Just like his, just like hers. The unnatural glint of something otherworldly, not quite alive but not quite dead either that he knows his eyes have, and that her eyes used to have even back at the hotel and probably before he could remember it.

  
  
Suddenly, he is reminded of how he doesn’t know what to do. He should leave her right there, let someone smarter do something about the baby.

  
  
But he can’t. There are no why’s or how’s, there’s only him getting up and bringing the bundle up close against his chest, not looking at her eyes anymore.

  
  
She might not have taken care of him but that does not mean he shouldn’t take care of her (even if there’s no chance that the baby is Bianca, it’s the least he can do for now)

  
  
-

  
  
The question arises within ten minutes of him walking away. Quite late to ask himself that, considering his decision had already been made, but it’s still a valid thing to ask.

  
  
What does he do to keep her alive? How does he not kill her? Tamagotchi isn’t valid parent training, but it’s all he has.

  
  
Should Nico go to Percy’s mom? Mrs. Jackson raised Percy, so she would probably know what to do.

  
  
_No, you can’t_, he tells himself, knowing fully well what an awful burden it is to have stupid people show up in your house._ C’mon, think, what do you need to do first? Besides getting her to not look at you like that?_

  
  
Ah, food!

  
  
He can’t breastfeed, though.

  
  
Is she old enough to eat a McDonalds? She doesn’t look very old, but neither does Nico, and look at him.

  
  
McDonalds has a kids menu, right? She’s a kid, she can probably pick herself something.

  
Deliberately not thinking about the possible consequences of shadow travel on a baby (and on a very tired idiot), Nico makes his move, holding her out slightly just so she doesn’t puke on him when they land.

  
  
-

  
  
  
Dave’s day is going on as normal and fine as it can get. Yes, he had needed help earlier identifying whether or not that burger was a dead rat, but that was just one single incident.

  
  
His shift ends in thirty minutes, which means he won’t have to deal with the general bad aura of that place or with his coworkers (because really, one of them has a bar code tattoo and the other wears their summer camp beady necklace everywhere, and people shouldn’t have facial scars that big, fuck you).

  
  
Plus, Kami hasn’t tried to wipe the windows with mayo today. That’s progress! That’s good! His therapist was right!

  
  
And then, when Dave is feeling oddly alive, a walking soggy French fry strolls into the McDonalds, holding a piece of salami wrapped in something vaguely similar to a jacket, if it had been thrown into a food processor.

  
  
The sorry excuse for a pre-teen awkwardly strides forward. Is that. Is that a sword? Does that kid have a sword? Is Dave the only person in this area without a deadly weapon on him?

  
  
He is going to pay for his crimes of tax evasion by getting decapitated by that little dead eyed middle schooler, isn’t he?

  
  
“Hello? Sir?” the kid is suddenly in front of him and way, way too far into his personal space, especially considering where he was when Dave last blinked.

  
  
“Welcome to Burger King, may I take your order?” he doesn’t quite realize what he is doing (that’s not a burger king, what the hell), but neither does the boy and if god does then he hasn’t decided to put an end to that misery yet.

  
“Do you have a kid’s menu?” he notices that the bundle of potatoes in the kid’s arms is actually a baby. He can’t pinpoint the thing’s age, but it’s sleeping peacefully (either that or dead, but he’s pretty sure it’s breathing).

  
  
“Yeah, just wait a minute” he hopes no one realizes how he hesitates to turn his back on the kid (because he looks like a zombie/like Dave’s reflection in the mirror, and he has an actual fucking sword, which makes all that plenty understandable really).

  
  
He puts the bundle onto the counter, like it’s nothing, and snatches the pamphlet from Dave’s hands right as he holds it out, with a cold, dead grip. And then, just in case Dave didn’t think he was hallucinating, he tries handing it to the weeks-old baby on the counter.

  
  
“What do you want?”

  
  
Is this what death feels like?

  
  
“I’ll get a happy meal.” The kid shrugs and hands back the menu tab, picking his baby back up and only swaying slightly.

  
  
Dave sighs deeply, and yells out the order, barely turning around, because death might be inevitable, but if he doesn’t pay his student debt he’ll definitely go to hell.

  
  
Hopefully, that little weirdo is the last client he has that day, and therefore the last person whose life he has to risk with the weird ass burgers this place serves.

  
  
“Would you like fries and a drink?” he’s pretty sure that giving this kid French fries would be forcing him into cannibalism, but it’s the policy for that place.

  
  
“No.”

  
  
C’mon, man. C’mon. His shift ends soon, he just has to bear with the awkwardness for a bit. The kid could just step back from the counter for a bit, though, couldn’t he?

  
  
No, he can’t.

  
  
That marks the start of the fifteen most grueling, tense minutes of uninterrupted eye contact. At least he knows karma is coming, as the burger isn’t even done by the time the next cursed college student comes in.

  
  
-

  
  
  
Oh. He remembers Bianca had never liked fast food, and even Percy and Grover seemed grossed out by his restaurant choices.

  
  
Still, she reacted pretty well to shadow travel. That’s good, that means they can try again, maybe this time in a grocery store, maybe with baby formula. He doesn’t really know why or how he thought that she could pick herself something, though.

  
  
He should probably rest for a bit, at least until the sun sets, just in case he has to shadow travel again. Plus, he’s hungry, and the food does look pretty good, or at the very least not toxic.

  
  
Yes, Nico will eat, and maybe rest a little, in the nice, warm shade of this building, because there's no way he'll just... fall asleep, right?

  
  
  
  
-

  
  
  
Tyler wishes his mother had had an abortion.

  
  
Like the sick set up for a bad joke, there’s a kid running into the Walmart and it isn’t even three AM, which means that there’s no excuse for anything weird to be going on.

  
  
He’s got a dead look in his eyes and he looks like the emo from Horton Hears a Who, and, like in a mockery of a renaissance painting, he holds a little brown bundle in his arms.

  
  
A little bundle that’s crying.

  
  
Hold up. Wait. Fuckin wait.

  
  
Is…

  
  
Is that a baby?

  
  
Is that an actual fucking newborn child? Wailing in that emo garden gnome’s arms?

  
  
“Look, it’s not my fault you didn’t want to pick yourself anything from the menu!” the little creature hisses to the crying baby.

  
  
The John Mulaney segment where he says that quote about how adult life cant get any weirder briefly comes to his mind as he stands there, paralyzed by something that shouldn’t feel this weird. Maybe they’re just waiting for their parents, or something like that-

  
  
"Hey do you have any baby formula sir-" asks the boy, suddenly in front of Tyler, in a desperate, heavily italian accent. It’s a miracle he can understand what is being said, because despite the dead eyes, he’s speaking really fast (also, crying baby).

  
  
“Yeah” he forces some calm into his voice, and gets up with a groan, pretty much running off into the nearest aisle.

  
  
"Please don’t pee on my jacket" the kid asks the wailing skinny sausage of a baby, like it can hear his pleas, as he steadily gets left behind.

  
  
They stroll through the halls, the boy somehow not losing Tyler. The baby’s still crying, which means that he’s pretty much running to get it some formula. He suddenly realizes he needs some things other than possibly toxic tit refills. He doesn’t even care if he has to pay for some diapers himself, or if that offends the kids’ parent’s.

  
  
If the boy and his sibling (?) are going to keep up with Tyler, then at least they can not stink.

  
  
“Where are your parents, though?” he asks, trying to look like he isn’t panicking.

  
  
The “don’t have ‘em” is barely audible.

  
  
Fuck.

  
  
He isn’t a great person or anything like that, but he’s definitely calling someone (preferably not his roommate).

  
  
Really, what…. Eleven year old (even that was a stretch, he was more like a slightly stretched ten year old, except for the dead fish eyes) willingly takes care of a baby?

  
  
So, of course, he decides to call the cops. It’s not like he’s got any preparation for situations like these, and he has no idea what child services are.

  
  
“Hey, can you wait here for a bit? I’ll grab some more stuff for you.” He tells the boy as they return to the checkout, and, like an idiot, leaves him and the little baby there.

  
  
In the backrooms, he pulls out his phone, and dials the holy number.

  
  
“Hello, ma’am-“ he starts “Look, the problem is that there’s a dead-looking emo kid trying to check out nineteen bottles or so of baby formula-“ technically his fault, but he’s not telling her that “Don’t how’s that not a problem me, what eleven year old carries a week old fucking fetus around asking it not to piss all over the floor-“

  
  
“Oh, a description?” he peeks out of the backrooms briefly. The kid is somehow still there, trying to calm down the baby. “Black hair, pale as hell, looks like my cousin’s corpse, not nearly five feet tall- yeah, he’s got yellow eyes, that’s weird ain’t it?”

  
  
“Good, good. I’ll keep the kid here ‘til then- What do you mean you have a record on the lil’ guy?” they just… ignored him, didn’t they? Well, that’s okay. He’s just gotta keep the kid waiting for like, five minutes, and then a social worker or something like that is going to pull up and Tyler won’t feel terrible.

  
  
Maybe he should give the kid something? Frankly, he has no experience with anything, he didn’t go to college for this.

  
  
Tyler picks a towel and an extra bag of diapers from the backrooms. He’ll hand the kid his offerings and try to keep him busy, and then everything will be fine, just as long as he doesn’t think about any possible crimes a ten year old could commit.

  
  
The kid doesn’t seem to pose any serious risk, as far as Tyler stays out of biting range, to be honest. Really, he’ll be fine, why is he so anxious about this-

  
  
Oh. The kid’s gone. He didn’t leave any money. Understandable, but fuck him.

  
-

  
  
  
Nico watches the baby eat, slightly disgusted at her manners. How does something so tiny have so much stomach?

  
  
He wonders why he’s doing that. He knows, now that he has had a bit of time to sit down and rest, that the ages don’t match up.

  
  
The baby’s not really a newborn – she doesn’t feel that fresh – and he knows, from father, that Bianca hasn’t been gone for long.

  
  
It’s not her. Why can’t he just drop her and her very-legally-bought things somewhere with someone who can take care of a child?

  
  
Oh, yeah. Because he’s dumb, and masochistic, and he gets nauseous at the idea of abandoning that baby, even if she just made him get rid of his one good jacket.

  
  
The bottle’s empty now, and not-Bianca burps, settling back into his arms.

  
  
Nico sighs. What else can he do, really?

  
  
-

  
  
The days pass, and Nico’s mental criminal record grows even further. It’s not like taking things without paying is new to him, but he still feels a little guilty. It’s not like he can make not-Bianca pay for things, though. Neither of them can legally work, not right now.

  
  
Maybe someday he’ll get a job and he’ll repay the stores he takes from.

  
  
He hasn’t gone to school in nearly three years, though, and he knows that getting a job without an education is hard.

  
  
Also, can he get a job if he doesn’t legally exist? Because he’s pretty sure he doesn’t, like, have any documents proving that he is currently alive.

  
  
He got himself a new jacket, too. Technically two, but he ended up having to throw one of them out, for the same reasons he discarded his beloved aviator. He paid for these, technically, with the offerings he left for the graves he took the coats from, so it isn’t like he feels guilty.

  
  
Oh, and there’s also the matter of the baby.

  
  
She’s still alive and that’s weird.

  
  
She cries often and all, but he can mostly figure out why, and she eats more than he does but that’s fine, too (he’s small, but still bigger than she is, and he needs less food either way). Her color is healthy, as far as he’s concerned. Darker than him, thank the gods, because if the baby was as pale as he is he would be scared.

  
  
Not-Bianca looks a lot like Bianca did. It’s funny, and confusing.

  
  
He shadows himself through the city, trying to avoid both monsters and the Dulce Delight filming crew. The days are spent mostly taking care of his newfound charge and running away from suspicious people and the occasional monster, avoiding fights as much as possible.

  
  
Nico sleeps whenever he can, which doesn’t mean a lot, because the baby is loud as all hell, and, for a child that’s probably only a couple of weeks old, really mean.

  
  
He makes sure she knows he doesn’t appreciate it when she shoves her little fists into his nose, but, as he’s come to know, she’s a baby and, either through malice or ignorance, she doesn’t listen to him.

  
  
Malice is very likely. She always listens to him when he sings her lullabies, though, so that’s sweet.

  
  
-

  
  
He has to go back to camp, eventually.

  
  
When he left, the Hades cabin hadn’t even been finished yet, and even if no one missed him at least he can get food for the baby without unsettling her with all the shadow traveling and near encounters with policemen (and get food for himself. Shadow travel is getting harder as the days pass, and that’s making it more difficult to get the things she needs, too).

  
  
There’s a problem, though. He’s afraid.

  
  
He knows why, and it’s embarrassing.

  
  
He’s afraid of losing her, somehow. It’s dumb, because really, what can anyone do? Nico’s good at running, and there’s no way he’ll let her out of his sight while they’re on their little excursion. It’s not like she can walk away on her own, either, so she probably won’t find anyone she likes better than him on her own.

  
  
He loosens his hold on her bundle. How did she not wake up with how tight he held her for a bit?

  
  
He’s so glad she’s a heavy sleeper, when she happens to actually fall asleep.

  
  
She’s adorable, in this really ugly way. He’s pretty sure that, in this life, her parents were a sausage and a potato. She’s perfectly in the middle of the spectrum, now. Maybe a bit more sausage, all red-faced when she cries and kind of skinny.

  
  
Of course, it’s dumb. He’s had her for all of two or three weeks, and since then he’s pretty sure he’s either become a local cryptid or a wanted criminal, possibly both. His attachment to the baby isn’t quite a rational thing, he knows.

  
  
He doesn’t want to think about that, and he doesn’t want to think about how there’s no way he can keep her forever. So he doesn’t.

  
  
Instead, he steps into the shadows, not-Bianca on the arm that isn’t holding a sword.


End file.
